


Showgirls

by Jayteesee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, My birthday present to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayteesee/pseuds/Jayteesee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the 30s. You were a showgirl. And you're boss is a Sokovian immigrant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showgirls

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote for my birthday which was yesterday. Enjoy! (The warning is for possible rape triggers. No one gets raped, but just in case there's any issue with traumatized victims of this horrible crime.)

"Alright, ladies, go out there, and make me some money. If you make enough, I might even let you keep some, and... oh, Y/N," groaned your boss as you struggled to pull on your costume.

"It never fits properly," you complained.

"Yeah, well, Trina fit in it just fine," he replied.

"But I'm not Trina, boss," you replied.

Your boss sighed and dragged his feet over to help you pull on your costume. You smiled at him brightly, and he smiled ever so slightly back. Pietro Maximoff was not the guy for smiling very often. "Alright, you're all suited up," he said running a hand through his messy hair.

"How'd you get it to fit? I never really get the..." you started, but Pietro interjected.

"Y/N, the show is starting!" he shouted pointing to the curtain.

You hurried out. The other girls laughed at you. You were the newbie anyway. You had come to New York from all the way out in Ohio leaving your mother and brothers in order for you to find work during the Depression. You started work just a week before Pietro took over as the boss of the nightclub because your previous boss had left without notice like many men had done leaving their families. Pietro was your boss' assistant after moving to America five years prior with his sister Wanda. Wanda hated the nightclub, and Pietro had to convince her he was turning it into a "respectable establishment". You sympathized with Pietro. He was far from home like you were, and he was treated badly for being different.

You hurried to the other girls who giggled at you. One looked sympathetically and told you all you needed to do was to learn how to fit in. You looked away. They always made you feel so insecure. In a few minutes, Pietro went out to announce the show amidst the few shouts of "skovie" and "Sokovian scum". You thought the show went pretty well. You only stumbled three times, and you were pretty sure the audience didn't notice two of them; though, the girls definitely noticed, and some of the girls gave you bad looks. After the show, you and the girls grabbed your platters and started waitressing. You walked up to one of the tables located near the back, and saw a lone man sitting there. He smiled up at you with slightly yellowed teeth. He had salt and pepper hair, and his clothes were dirty. "Hey, doll," he drawled.

"Hello," you replied timidly, "Anything you want to eat or drink tonight, sir?"

"There's something I want, but it ain't on the menu," he replied keeping his lecherous gaze fixed on you.

Your stomach churned, and you felt nauseous. Sure, you'd seen the other girls get hit on before, but it was always by guys who at least _seemed_ classy.

"I'll still pay. Do a good job, and I'll leave a tip," the man laughed.

"Oh... well..." you stammered before hurrying away.

You almost collided with another one of the girls who was just leaving a table. "Sylvia!" you exclaimed.

"Whaddya want?" she asked.

"Um... Are customers supposed to... to... _request other services_ from us?" you asked quietly.

"Hey, we've all been there. I ain't saying it it's right. I ain't saying it's wrong, but... Well, lemme see the guy," said Sylvia.

You discreetly pointed him out, and you could hear Sylvia take a sharp intake of breath. "I know him. He's not as bad as he looks. Probably just feels down on his luck tonight. Hey, he's a good guy. You might get more business, but... look, I did something like this when I just started out. Helped me understand the rest of the girls. Some of 'em regularly do this sorta thing, and it takes a toll on 'em which is why they might seem so stressed a lot of the time. Pietro doesn't like it. I don't even think he _knows._ I mean, _I_ never did it again, but... I'm not gonna tell you what to do," concluded Sylvia rushing away to get some drinks for her table. 

You exhaled and looked back at the man. He had been looking the other way, but he caught your eye and smiled again. You nervously approached him and ducked your head. "Um... Well, my shift ends in two hours so..." you said quietly.

"Great. Meet you out back then," he said getting up.

He walked behind you studying you then whistled before leaving the nightclub. You hung your head. Is this really what you had to do to fit in? You continued your shift cleaning off tables and taking orders. You were nervous when it was time for you to leave. You had the latest shift and were leaving while Pietro was locking up. "Have a good night, Y/N," he called before you left.

"Yeah, you too," you replied.

You dragged your feet outside feeling the cold air slap your face. You clutched your coat around you trying to find the man from earlier. For a second, you thought perhaps he had gone, but that thought was cut short by a voice. "Heya, doll," you heard someone say. 

"H-hi," you replied.

"Well, let's get to it," he said.

"Out-outside!" you half-exclaimed.

"Yeah, baby, where else?" he asked with a laugh.

He grabbed your arm roughly and led you to the back door that led straight to the dressing rooms. He shoved you against the brick wall adjacent to the door, and started undoing his belt buckle. You were severely disgusted by this point, not that you were not before. He pulled off his belt then leaned forward to kiss you. You moved your head. "No, I don't want this-" you murmured.

"What?" asked the man trying again to kiss you.

"I don't want this. No," you said squirming trying to get away from him, but he blocked your path.

"Sure you do, baby," he said calmly grabbing your wrists.

"No!" you said more loudly this time, "Stop!" you exclaimed trying to get away.

The man began to look visibly frustrated. You began to cry, and through your tears you saw the man's expression change from frustrated to angry. "Please, stop, sir," you pleaded.

"Hey!" shouted a voice.

The man turned around still holding your wrists. "It's the skovie," said the man.

"What are you doing? Let her go," demanded Pietro.

"We made an arrangement today, Sokovian scum. She's mine for the night," said the man.

"Do as he says. Let me go!" you shouted struggling to break free.

Pietro's face grew way more angry than you had ever seen- even more than when people called him "skovie" or "Sokovian street rat" or "Sokovian scum". He grabbed the man by his shirt collar so forcefully the man let go of you in fright. He punched him once- then twice. "Hey, skovie, the girls have done things like this for some of my friends before. I just wanted to try it out," said the man putting up his hands.

Pietro had him pinned to the ground. "Yeah? Well, you can tell your friends you don't mess around with _my_ girl... I mean girls. This is a respectable establishment," added Pietro before hitting the man again.

"What was that for?" asked the man spitting out some blood.

"I'm not a 'skovie'," replied Pietro.

He got up and dusted off his pants. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you back into the nightclub grabbing the phone from where it was stationed on the little round table. He got ahold of the police to be on a lookout for your assailant. When he was done, he knelt in front of you while you sat in a chair lightly crying. "Hey, he's gone now," said Pietro.

"I know, but I- it's all my fault. I should have never... I just wanted to fit in," you cried.

"You don't need to. And you made the right choice to decide against it in the end. As long as I have been working here, the girls give the newbie a hard time. Just give it a week or two more, and they'll come around," said Pietro.

"I let you down," you said.

"Yeah, you did. At least you're consistent," joked Pietro.

You cried more. "It was a joke! It was a joke! Hey, you always let me down in some way or another, but it doesn't mean I don't like you. Plus, you learn from your mistakes," Pietro said reassuringly.

You sniffled and wiped away your tears. "You like me?" you asked.

"Of course I do. Your mistakes are usually entertaining. The audience loves it... I love it," added Pietro scratching the back of his neck.

A moment of silence passed between you two before Pietro got up. "Come on. I'll take you home," he said holding out a hand.

You took it and got up. Pietro and you walked outside stopping to lock the His arm wrapped around your shoulder again, and you snuggled closer trying to find warmth in the cool night air. When you got to your apartment, Pietro insisted he walk you to the door,as if he was afraid something else might happen to you. "You know, the apartment I live in is much cleaner," he remarked, "Maybe Stark will take you in as a tenant."

You got to your door at the end of the hall and awkwardly said your goodbye. After a few seconds of wondering why your feet would not allow you to turn towards the door, you hugged Pietro. Finally, you willed yourself inside your door, but just as soon as you did that, you flew out, grabbed Pietro, and kissed him. He seemed shocked but melted into the kiss hovering his hand above your waist. "See you tomorrow!" you garbled out after abruptly breaking the kiss and flying back through your door slamming it behind you.

Pietro ran his hand through his hair and smiled. You slid down behind your door. You two- though different from most people- were made for each other.


End file.
